


torpor

by shineonloki



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, But that's up for debate, Hey! Take note of that Non-Con tag!, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Sibling Incest, Thor thinks he's a good brother, Thorki Secret Santa 2018, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineonloki/pseuds/shineonloki
Summary: Thor keeps Loki warm as a mysterious illness drags him into a deep sleep.Written for the Thorki Secret Santa 2018.





	torpor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Estivate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estivate/gifts).



**tor·por**  
_noun_  
a state of physical or mental inactivity; lethargy.

 

\--

It came on slowly, like an illness.

Asgard was cooling and edging into winter. Yet, next to him, beneath the shade of leaves and limbs, his brother was burning up. It was the first red flag, tipping Thor off that something wasn’t right.

Loki tugged at his high collar, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. The air was so brisk that their mother had warned them to dress appropriately. Thor was warm, but comfortably so. Loki, normally cold by nature and wrapped in layers, looked as though the very fabric of his clothing was woven from flames.

“Are you well?” Thor asked. Loki had the nerve to look annoyed at Thor’s concern, closing his book with a soft thud and standing, jostling Thor where he leaned against him.

“Just a bit hot,” he said stiffly. “I’m going to retire early.”

Thor nodded, frowning, but settling back against the tree to resume his midday nap.

Loki was prickly most days, so it was easy to dismiss. Thor closed his eyes, missing the way his brother swayed on his feet.

 

* * *

 

“Would you like to go riding?”

Loki sat at his desk, scrolls scattered, and tomes opened. Practicing his seidr, Thor assumed.

He poked at a chunk of a glimmering geode, and Loki carefully removed his hand from it with an indignant huff.

“I’m not feeling up to it,” Loki said, and then quickly added, “I have far too much work to do.”

That was the thing, Loki had all but quarantined himself into his room. There had been whispers in the hallways about the younger prince feeling ill— yet, isolated, Thor had no way to watch over him.

And, if he were to admit it, he missed his company.

“Come on,” Thor whined, moving behind him to grab at his shoulders and shake him lightly. He felt Loki tense under the touch, and then loosen, head wobbling with the motion. Thor looked down the same time Loki looked up, and in a small victory, his brother smiled.

“Just to the edge of the mountains.”

“Just to the edge of the mountains,” Thor echoed, promising.

 

* * *

 

It was a short ride to their destination, fair weather, and Thor had the kitchen prepare a meal for them to share.

He rode ahead of Loki on the narrow path, filling the silence with his own chatter. On the occasion, Loki would throw a sharp retort or barb— which was good, it meant he was feeling himself. But soon his commentary shortened to hums and quick affirmations.

Then, nothing at all.

Thor looked behind him, twisting on his horse the best he could, to find Loki nodding off, slumping forward.

“Loki?”

Loki’s head snapped up, alert, but his eyes were droopy with sleep.

“Can we stop, just for a moment?”

The palace was still in their eyesight, towering above the trees. They had barely broken the cities borders, yet his brother looked like he’d been traveling for days. Weary, and in need of rest. Loki was already tugging at his reigns, his horse trotting to a halt. Thor followed suit, rushing to Loki’s side when he slumped on the saddle instead of making to get off.

Thor helped him down gently like he did when they were children. Loki leaned into him, catching his weight against Thor’s chest, dropping his head against his sternum and breathing in. He told himself there was no way Loki could decipher the quickening pace of his heart but took him by the shoulders and eased him into standing position all the same.

“I’m feeling faint,” Loki whispered. His voice sounded parched, dry.

Perhaps the rumors were true, maybe Loki was ill. Or—

“Do you think you need to eat? I packed some—”

“I’m tired,” Loki cut him off. It wasn’t sharp, or spiteful. It was exactly what Loki said,  _tired_. “Can we just go back, I’m sorry.”

Thor couldn’t remember the last time Loki had told him sorry and sincerely sounded like he meant it. It wasn’t as if he would deny him anything though. He swept the fallen hair from Loki’s forehand, stopping to place the back of his hand against it.

Warm to the touch, like he suspected.

“Of course,” Thor told him. “Do you need help back on your horse?”

Loki looked at it warily, lips pursed. The horse was dressed in only a saddle, no further restraints to keep Loki upright should he lose consciousness. Which, appeared to be a real possibility with the way he leaned against Thor, eyelids fluttering.

Thor decided then that he would ride with him, and it was a testament to Loki’s state that he allowed it. He attached a rope to Loki’s horse to guide it along, and carefully pulled his brother up, positioning him in front to rest against him.

The fever rolled off Loki in waves, his forehead beading with sweat, cheeks red, and his mouth open with heavy breaths. He was a hot, heavy, weight against Thor’s chest, letting out pained noises, that could easily be mistaken for pleasure.

It was indecent, and inappropriate, these thoughts— thoughts that shouldn’t be had about a brother, much less an ill one.

It was a box he wasn’t going to open, one that should remain locked.

Thor sat straight, not allowing himself to look down at his brother’s sleeping form again. His eyes stayed forward, toward the path leading back to the palace, and his mind stayed far, far away from Loki.

 

* * *

 

“Is he well?”

His mother’s lips turned into a frown, which did nothing to calm the nerves thrumming beneath his skin. Loki had been confined to his room, and Thor watched healers enter and exit daily.

None of them ever looked cheery.

“I’m afraid your brother is very sick,” she said softly, holding her arms open and beckoning him near. “You must be good to him.”

Thor nuzzled into his mother, breathed in her sweet scent to ground himself. His hands shook where they grasped at her robes.

Of course, he would be good to Loki.

“No matter what,” she whispered, though Thor couldn’t think of a reason why he wouldn’t.

Loki was his brother.

Loki was  _his_.

 

* * *

 

By the second week, Thor’s worry turned to anger. None of the healers could figure out what was wrong with the youngest prince.

There were times when Loki would slowly stroll through the hall, holding onto the wall for support, too stubborn for any other type of aid.

But even that became too much, and Loki was bound to his bed.

Thor watched him, from the crack in the doorway. Chest moving up and down slowly, eyes shut, buried beneath blankets despite the flush to his skin. A hearth burned strong, the windows all drawn shut. Thor had heard the servants talking amongst themselves, bewildered at Loki’s request for more heat.

A side effect to this mysterious ailment, they said.

The library was always Loki’s favored area of recreation, but Thor knew his way around it just fine. He gathered as many books on maladies as he could and retreated to a spot beneath the bay window overlooking the garden— the one he always found Loki at.

If no one else could find the problem, Thor would.

He wasted away three afternoons, surrounded by books and tomes, scrolls littering the floor of the library. No servant dared to touch his work.

“Any luck, my son?”

His father, Odin, stood before him, watching Thor with a quiet intensity. It was strange for him to been seen outside the throne room, he’d been so devoured in his position as of late.

Thor looked down at the book in his hand, he was beginning to scrape the bottom of the barrel. No other text had anything close to what he was looking for, so he began to turn to other sources. Ailments of Vanaheim, ailments of Midgard— Thor currently held a book on Jotunheim, opened to a page on Winter cycles and hibernation.

Odin plucked it from his hands.

“I don’t believe you will find anything in here,” he said somberly, closing it and sitting to the side before taking a seat.

Thor eyed the book, dark leather embroidered with blue. His father was probably right— Asgard and Jotunheim had been closed from each other since the war, there was no way Loki contracted something hailing from the frozen wastelands.

“What should we do?”

Odin looked at him much like his mother had. Sympathetic.

“Your brother will be fine,” his father assured him. “In time.”

Not an answer, and not really a promise either.

Still, Odin was the Allfather. Surely his word meant something.

 

* * *

 

His mother found him on the training grounds three days later.

Thor knew immediately something was wrong, and his first thought went to Loki, laying weak in his bed. His stomach flipped as he dropped his practice sword and approached her, watching her wring her hands. She tried to put on a nice smile, but even that faltered.

Frigga hadn’t left Loki’s side in days. So now, to see her all the way out there—

“Mother is—”

“Your father has fallen into the Odinsleep.”

Thor closed his mouth, relief washing over him. It was inconvenient, yes, but not the worst-case scenario. He clasped a comforting hand on her shoulder, smiling for the first time in days. She returned it, albeit a little weakly.

“I will need to tend to things; will you check on Loki? Make sure he is warm.”

Thor nodded.

“Of course.”

He’d been waiting for a moment alone with his brother.

Loki was rarely honest, and stubborn in a way that made him unable to voice his real sufferings readily. No doubt he wanted to take this malady in stride, to appear strong when there was no need.

If Thor were to get him alone, he could ask him to drop the guard. He could see how he was really fairing.

Frigga broke him from his reverie, leaning up to kiss his forehead, giving his cheek a light tap.

“You’re a good brother,” she told him, and Thor preened only a little.

 

* * *

 

The night seemed to never come.

As it often was when Odin drifted into the sleep, the palace was chaos. Thor barely had time to breathe, much less find his way to Loki’s private corridor.

So, the moment the sun began to set, creeping into the horizon, Thor went to him.

The room was hot, almost unbearably so. Loki lay pillowed in a fortress of pelts, and blankets. It nearly burned Thor up just looking at him. Loki turned his head, eyes heavy-lidded, and smiled.

“Brother,” he breathed out. He sounded exhausted, and Thor’s heart ached. At his side, Loki’s fingers twitched just the slightest, outstretched toward him.

“How are you feeling?” Thor sat down on the side of the bed and it sunk with his weight. He could already feel the sweat beading on his forehead, his hair already feeling damp.

“Cold,” Loki said and  _shivered_.

Thor reached out with the back of his hand and pressed it to Loki’s clammy forehead. He was hot to the touch again; like he was sweating out a fever. Perhaps whatever illness that held him was breaking. The thought was enough to shake the sweltering heat.

Whatever Loki needed, he was prepared to give.

Then, Loki was moving the blankets aside, looking at Thor expectantly.

“Lay with me?” He blinked those big, green eyes. “Like when we were children?”

Thor took note of the thin, silk robe. The hint of bare skin beneath it. He thought back to their failed day trip, and the way Loki had slotted so perfectly against him.

And, how the memory of him red and panting had snuck its way into his mind’s eye when he took himself in hand later that night.

Thor nodded, dumbly, creeping up on the bed on all fours. Loki watched him, eyes distant, but lips smiling. Thor pulled the covers over them before he could change his mind, and Loki melted into his side. Burning, hot, for more reasons than the obvious.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

“Stay with me. I’ll be alright,” he answered, not sounding entirely convinced.

Loki brought his head to rest on Thor’s shoulder, hair tickling at the underside of his chin. A hand came to rest on his chest, and Thor’s pulse quickened. This was nothing they hadn’t done before. They often found their way to each other’s beds growing up.

But Loki had grown to be so pretty. Thorny, but beautiful— his brother.

“Do you remember when we would go on hunting trips with father?” Thor didn’t know why he asked. Or, rather he did— but didn’t know why he followed through. Loki nodded. He was young during those times before he began lingering back to practice his seidr. “It is best to shed your clothes and bed with another person if you find yourself cold.”

There was a long pause, and Thor worried he’d been too transparent. Loki could see through the cracks in his armor, to his shameful desire.

Then Loki moved, shifting close to him, out of his robe. It was dark, Thor could barely make out the form of his brother’s bare skin in the pale moonlight. Delicate and ethereal, like a piece of art.

“I think this only works if we are both undressed,” Loki teased. He almost sounded like his old self, if not a bit tired.

Thor swallowed his pride, and his fear, and stripped himself of his shirt. This had been his reckless suggestion, after all.

There was something intimate about slowly removing his clothing beneath the covers, in the dark, until he remained in nothing but his smallclothes. Skin to skin.

Loki settled in beside him, unphased. Normal, innocent reactions. Thor wished he could say the same for himself. His mother’s words echoed in his mind.

_Be good to him._

He could do that.

“You’re warm,” Loki whispered, his lips brushing against Thor’s shoulder as he spoke. An arm was snaked around his chest, his brother’s entire weight pressing up against him— hot and sticky with sweat. Of course, he was warm, the room was sweltering.

But Loki seemed to crave more, burying himself closer until his eyes fluttered shut and his breathing evened.

_Be good._

Thor closed his eyes, but it was many hours before sleep came.

 

* * *

 

Cool air hit his chest as he jolted up from sleep.

The fire in the hearth had dwindled down to coals, the night air had taken hold of the heat and cooled it to something manageable. Comfortable.

Running a hand through his hair, Thor looked around the room. He was in Loki’s chambers still, of course.

Beside him, Loki lay still, hand upon his unmoving chest.

A sense of dread washed over Thor, and with a trembling hand he reached out to shake gently at his brother’s shoulder.

“Loki?”

Nothing, not even a whimper. Thor moved his hand beneath Loki’s nose, hovering over his mouth. His heart instantly calmed when he felt the faint, whisper-like breathes puff against his skin. Thor sat back on his haunches, relieved. Finally able to breathe himself.

“Loki?” He tried again. Still, his brother didn’t stir.

He should alert the healers, or at the very least, get their mother.

But it was as he sat, looking down at Loki— soft and perfect in his slumber— Thor realized another problem.

He looked at his own lap, where there was a tent in the fabric. It was a natural reaction, he decided, brought on by sleeping tangled so close to another body.

Still, he couldn’t very well seek help with stiffness in his pants. No one could know his body's reaction, his want, for his brother.

And, yet, Loki needed help.

He would take care of himself, for Loki’s own good, while allowing himself a deviant indulgence. To gaze upon Loki while he brought himself off.

Thor slipped down his smallclothes, past his hips, drawing himself out with a tight fist. He was already hard, rigid beneath his fingers. The pull was too dry, edging on uncomfortable, and he spit down into his fist as he worked himself over. Closing his eyes, imagining the slide came from Loki’s wet mouth.

It worked, but it still wasn’t enough.

His eyes caught sight of the bedside table—he knew what he kept in his own, and perhaps Loki would be no different.

Carefully, Thor reached over to fumble the drawer open, hissing as his cock drug against the hard line of Loki’s stomach. The simple brush was more overwhelming than anything his hand could do.

With blind fingers, he felt around inside, finally drawing out a small vial of oil, nearly half empty. Thor sat back, admiring it, stomach flipping at the thought of Loki lying in bed stroking himself.

He probably had the sweetest face of bliss, and Thor took himself in hand with a newly slicked fist, pumping to the image of Loki’s brows knitted together in pleasure rather than in annoyance.

He was close and had every intention of spilling into his own hand. But, the wet line along Loki’s stomach, the one Thor’s own cock had drawn, had his mind filling with other options. Thor wondered what it would be like to come across his brother’s sleeping face.

An unknowing, dirty, secret image that he could conjure once Loki woke and this was over.

Then he remembered how good it felt to touch Loki, and he squeezed his cock at the base to stop himself from releasing at the mere memory. What good was a memory when he had the real thing?

No one would have to know.

Thor emptied the bottle of oil onto his fingers, moving between Loki’s legs and carefully parting them to slot himself there. He smoothed his hands down Loki’s thighs, slippery wet, kneading the oil into the soft skin until it was glistening. Loki’s cock sat soft in a nest of neat, dark hair. Thor didn’t dare touch it, though he wanted to.

This needed to be over. One good release and the sickness would leave his system.

Thor handled Loki’s legs like a doll, sitting back so he could close his thighs together, wrapping his hand around Loki’s ankles and holding them up. He watched as a drop of oil rolled down, dripping over his hole. There was the urge to take a finger and push it in, but Thor resisted it.

This would be enough.

Holding Loki’s ankles with one hand, and guiding his cock with the other, Thor pushed himself between slick thighs. It was instantly more satisfying than his fist— to know that the warmth that enveloped him belonged to his beloved brother.

He wondered what kind of sounds Loki would make, had he been awake.

Would he be silent, panting and breathing hard has Thor fucked himself into the tight heat? Would he moan like a whore? Beg for Thor to fill him up?

His rhythm faltered at that, hips snapping with the lewd, wet sound of skin slapping against skin. Imagining Loki stuffed full of him, how much sweeter it would be to come inside. Thor pushed forward, Loki’s thighs squeezing him like a vice, and he came with harsh breaths, all over Loki’s stomach and cock.

Thor released his hold on Loki’s ankles, guiding his legs gently back down, spreading them so he could see the mess he made on his own brother. Stomach, striped white, and cock dripping Thor’s own spill.

This was where the guilt should settle in his stomach, but nothing came. Just the absurd realization that now his problem was worse than before. He couldn’t go fetch the healers while Loki was in this state.

Now he must clean him.

Thor swiped his finger through the mess, bringing it to his lips before stopping. He looked down at Loki, his mouth parted with the faintest of breaths. It was an easy, automatic decision to push his fingers past Loki’s lips, feeding him.

It may have been better to feel Loki hollow out his mouth and suck, but there was a thrill in this too. Mesmerized, he pulled his fingers out, wiping the excess come and spit along Loki’s cheek.

He didn’t mean to let Loki have all of it for himself.

Thor dipped his head down between Loki’s spread thighs, lapping up the mess pooled at the dip of his waist. His tongue was so close to Loki’s cock, it only made sense to clean that too.

There was a firmness to him, a biological response to Thor licking and sucking. Loki didn’t reach full hardness, no matter how many times Thor swallowed him down, or cupped at his balls while sucking him clean of the evidence.

Thor, on the other hand, already sported another aching erection.

There was a voice in his head, reminding him he never meant to indulge himself this far. He put it to the side, too far driven on lust. An unwavering desire that he could do yield to. He inched his hand down Loki’s thigh where he held it spread, fingers still slick with oil, spit, and spend.

“I’ll make this good for you, brother,” Thor whispered as his finger breached the tight ring of muscle. Loki didn’t so much as twitch, his body relaxed and taking Thor so good, so unknowingly willful.

There would be time later, Thor told himself, to open Loki up properly. But by the time he was knuckle-deep with two fingers, stretching him open, he was already desperate.

Plus, he wanted Loki to feel the burn of him when he woke.

“That’s it,” Thor cooed to deaf ears, lining himself up.

He looked upon his brother before pushing in—taking special note of the way his head had fallen to the side, the pretty line of his profile; down to his rosy, pert nipples; to his half-hard cock, glistening from Thor’s mouth.

He edged forward, the stretch unbearably tight around him. “That’s it,” he said again. “Come on, open up for me.”

And Loki did, beautifully. His body making room for Thor like it innately knew to do. Thor held onto his hips, keeping his body still for the push, hard enough to bruise. The thought of marking him up with purple fingerprints, staking a claim, had his grip tightening.

He was never supposed to want this— though maybe he always had. He’d just never allowed himself to want or entertain the idea. All it took was Loki nearly slipping away from him to unleash the monster. He had no shame left.

Now, he had it, and he wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

Thor pushed in slow, tender, like a lover. Leaning down to press a kiss to Loki’s chest. He snapped his hips to seat himself fully— a rough movement in comparison to the feather-light kisses he peppered along his sternum. He withdrew slowly, pushing in again harder, punching out a groan from himself.

Bliss.

It didn’t take long for Thor to drop all pretense, sitting back on his haunches with a hand on each of Loki’s knees, keeping him spread apart while Thor split him open with quick, punishing thrusts. Loki’s entire body moved with him, his semi-hard cock bouncing with each thrust.

Thor licked his hand and brought around Loki, squeezing and pulling. He wanted to see Loki come as badly as he wanted to see himself. Proof that his brother wanted him, so he would never be able to deny his desire.

He knew he hit that spot inside Loki when the cock beneath his hand tightened, standing stiffer, weeping at the tip. Thor adjusted himself to hit it again and tried to steady his rhythm and hold himself off from coming too soon.

He would do this again one day.

He would fuck Loki until he was a sobbing mess; until he was begging for Thor to let him come. Thor wouldn’t even have to work for it. He would draw him so close all it would take would be a brush of his fingers.

This time he  _would_  work for it. He owed Loki that much— a sweet release he hoped he felt in his slumber.

Who did Loki see behind his eyes? Who did he think was fucking him so well? Surely Loki knew only his brother could love him like this.

Just as Thor found himself inching closer, release coiling up low in his belly, Loki’s body twitched— the first sign of voluntary movement— and he pulsed over Thor’s hand.

That was all it took for Thor to snap forward, grinding his hips into Loki with a guttural moan. He pumped him full, harder than he had ever come before. Emptying himself, but it wasn’t enough.

He wanted Loki to know it was Thor’s seed deep in him. Planted there forever, their union never to be erased.

He would just have to do it again, to be sure.

Thor cleaned him up properly, with rags instead of tongue. He slipped the silk robe back over Loki’s shoulders, tied him at the waist so that he once again looked pristine, untouched.

His heart rate was still slow, a crawl, but there.

Thor settled himself back down beneath the covers and buried his nose into the crown of Loki’s head. He didn’t fetch the healers, there was no need.

Thor would take care of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I didn't realize how nervous I would be to write something for someone else! Still, this was a lot of fun! I would like to thank Estivate for providing me with such beautiful, thought-out prompts! Your writing is amazing, and I hope that I did your idea justice! :') Happy Holidays! <3 
> 
> Also, a note on the story-- or an explanation, at least, because I had a hard time fitting it in with Thor's POV:
> 
> Loki is falling into hibernation as Jotunheim enters its longest winter, but of course, no one but Odin knows this. Odin usually keeps Loki from being susceptible to his body's biology, but falling into the Odinsleep made that unravel.


End file.
